Deadman Wonderland
by Error-516
Summary: My English Controlled Assessment, that I thought I'd share with you. Warning, it's a bit weird.


**Hello readers! It's been a while, and I'm sorry for the lack of updates on my fanfics. They'll be done soon-ish I hope, as soon as I get out of this writers block. Anyway, this is just something I thought I'd share with you. This was my English Controlled Assessment, where we had to do a short story based on a poem (the poem is below, and IS NOT MINE!). I'm proud because I got an A* on this! Hehe!**

**Poem: Deadman Wonderland (Not sure who the writer of it is, but I love it anyway)**

**Enjoy! **

_**My sweet little woodpecker,**_

_**Beat your wings close to my head.**_

_**I can hear your whisper.**_

_**Even if inside you're dead.**_

_**The red, oh the red,**_

_**It's running down the wall.**_

_**Sing softly, my pet,**_

_**or don't sing at all.**_

_**Gently now, be careful,**_

_**If you pull too much it'll tear.**_

_**If it rips then grounded I'll be,**_

_**Deep down under there.**_

_**The spirals are twirling,**_

_**I can feel it in the air.**_

_**We'll die like this, you know,**_

_**Choking on a hair.**_

_**Living in a Wonderland,**_

_**Is it any wonder we're dead?**_

_**The Deadmen sing their happy tunes**_

_**While painting each other red.**_

'Ah, my little woodpecker. How long have you spent trapped inside your little cage?' The girl thought, her unusual crimson eyes glistening with tears that brimmed in the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill down her perfectly-smooth cheeks. Her gaze was locked on to one being in particular...A boy. Through the bars of her small, dusty basement window, she could see him. Him in all his perfection.

But she could not touch.

She could not have what she dreamed of. Her love for him reached like the hands of desperate prisoners: grasping, flexing, trying to find something safe to latch on to. Yet it was in vain.

She wanted to listen to his sweet voice...his sweet voice of agony. She longed to paint him crimson, hand him the crimson cloak that could only mark death. She wanted that tangy, metallic taste to fill her mouth, caress her taste buds as she sang her song for him.

In a fit of anger she kicked the rusted, dust-covered music box nearby. It spluttered and shook, like someone had violently awoken it from a sweet slumber. Soon after, a pianic melody filled the air, and a child's voice began to sing - a high, yet soft, whispered voice.

The crimson-eyed girl's hands slipped from the bars she'd been holding in a white-knuckled grip, falling limply to her side. Her soft, sleek black hair hung in her face, shadowing those cold, crimson eyes. She fell to the floor - her love was out of her sight - and the side of her mouth twitched.

Slowly, yet surely, a grin began etching itself on to her face: crazed, maniacal, psychotic. Her lips stretched and cracked; breaking and bleeding. The music faded, the music box coughing out the last few notes, before...silence

The silence was total.

She sat there: grounded, hardly able to move; deep down underground, in a damp, frozen, lonely basement, with only one window available to gaze out of.

'Oh, my sweet, oblivious woodpecker. My love, my only. Sing softly for me, and together we will uncover the harshness of this world. I shall wear a sweeping dress dyed red by you...and you shall be my Deadman for all eternity, living in this wonderland.' The girl thought, her head rolling back and hitting the wall as she gazed upwards - her manic grin still going steady.

Her gaze fell back down when a cold, harsh needle pricked and then pierced her pale skin. The metal band firmly attached to her wrist twisted round, the needle inside it retracting and then stabbing her repeatedly, leaving only warm, fresh blood to trickle slowly from beneath this metal band she wore.

'I feel no pain...this band may restrict me from reaching you, my sweet woodpecker, but my love will forever be free to touch you. They cannot keep me her for eternity, one day I will change my fate...and find you. Set you free from your cage. Paint you in your special crimson colour. Turn your flesh white. Together for eternity. Free from this wonderland, and the Deadmen controlling it.' She told herself in her thoughts, her heart pounding in her chest, threatening to burst out of her ribcage.

She sighed.

Bringing her wrist up to her mouth, her pink appendage slipped through her parted lips to lap up any of the crimson liquid she so desperately desired. Her wrist fell. She sat there, waiting, silent.

Prepared to start the cycle again.


End file.
